A thunderous boom rang out, as if someone had viciously swung a club into his head.
His entire mind was instantly unleashed. It was as though countless vast, complex pieces of information had suddenly been crammed into his mental world. The energy rapidly accumulated, filling his whole brain before exploding with a crash.
A violent sensation of falling suddenly struck!
The weightless feeling of plummeting from ten thousand meters in the air abruptly descended upon President X. He felt all his senses slipping out of control, while the chaotic voices in his head gradually "quieted" down.
President X no longer knew how long it had been since he had experienced such silence. He only remembered that, after accidentally probing the mind of his family's gardener, all sorts of voices had inexplicably begun to emerge in his head.
Those voices were like the murmurs of people in their sleep, completely devoid of logic. But slowly, gradually, President X could clearly sense that "they" were awakening, learning, expanding, and contaminating his mind!
Yet there was nothing he could do. He wanted to resist. He had tried to resist, but he had failed. From the moment he crushed the brain of the first person who tried to attack him with his psychic power, everything had spiraled out of control.
Just like right now.
Those sorrowful, uncontrolled, terrifying memories—memories that made him hurt so badly he could barely breathe whenever he thought of them—gradually surged forth, trying to cloud his mind again and hollow out his head.
President X's eyes widened as he resisted soundlessly. He could not understand how this lowly human dared defy "his" will, even taking off the helmet that could protect his mind right in front of him.
But when President X truly made contact with his brain, the fierce surge of psychic power instantly knocked "President X" unconscious. By the time "he" prepared to fight back, it was already too late.
"No!"
President X did not open his mouth, yet a deafening roar sounded beside his ears. The voice echoed endlessly, recounting itself in the languages of every country in the world, soon becoming the only sound left in President X's mind.
The instant their psychic powers came into contact, a connection had already formed. No matter how frantically President X tried to withdraw his telepathy, it was useless. The other party's mental world was like a black hole, drawing in every piece of information that dared invade it.
President X felt as though an incomparably powerful gravitational force was dragging him away by force. It was also as if he had been strapped onto a speeding roller coaster. Soon, the roller coaster plunged into a mountain tunnel, surrounded by darkness and unfathomable depths.
President X did not know how long this tunnel was, nor did he know what lay at its end.
He only knew that the things that had plagued him all this time, kept him from sleeping, and wrapped tightly around him like a sticky mire were being stripped from his mind bit by bit.
Then, President X suddenly felt a solid sensation against his back—it was the backrest of a seat.
His out-of-control body came back to life, and control returned to him. President X could not help gasping for breath, but when he raised his head, he found a massive screen in front of him.
After staring blankly for a moment, President X was at a loss. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but no sound came out. He looked around and discovered that he was sitting inside an old-fashioned movie theater.
Many "people" were scattered throughout the seats, sitting just as he was. President X did not dare say whether those things were really "people," because the humanoid figures had no facial features at all. Their faces were as smooth as sheets of paper, without even wrinkles or pores.
There were men and women among them, dressed in all kinds of clothes. Sitting motionlessly in their seats, they looked like mannequins deliberately placed there by someone. It was terrifying.
Although they had no facial features, Professor X could sense that they were all "watching" him. It was not sight conveyed through eyes, but a more advanced kind of observation, something on a psychic level.
In such a silent environment, that feeling was exceedingly strange.
Just as President X was about to be overwhelmed by unease, light suddenly appeared behind him. Turning his gaze back, President X realized that the large screen behind him had lit up, while he sat alone in the very center of the front row.
Static flickered across the screen before turning pure white. The surrounding environment darkened. President X did not know what was happening, but he understood one thing: the movie had begun.
A young, handsome man soon appeared on the screen. Sitting opposite him was a federal investigator.
Although it was his first time seeing that person, for some reason, President X was already certain that the handsome young man was himself, even though he looked nothing like him.
But President X knew that he was himself.
"Hank modified this radar device into a transmitter. It can amplify brainwaves, enhancing your telepathic abilities and helping us find more mutants." The footage on the screen began to play, and voices came from the speakers.
"I thought you had already found them." A man suddenly stood up. "If a new species is discovered, it should be discovered by its own kind. Charles and I will find the New Mutants, not you humans."
President X slowly opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to say a name. But he could not say it at all right now. He knew he should have been able to say it, yet no matter how hard he racked his brain, he could not remember what that name was.
"First, that machine belongs to us humans. Second, this was Charles's decision as well. Charles does not mind the CIA getting involved, right, Charles?"
"No." President X and the man on the screen spoke at the same time.
"I'm sorry, but I agree with Erik. We should be the ones to find them, not humans," the man on the screen said calmly.
"What if we disagree?"
"Then I wish you the best of luck using that device without me."
It seemed like only a second had passed, yet it also seemed like a single breath. President X felt as though he had passed through an invisible barrier, and a grand illusion vast enough to burst his brain occupied his mind, flooding into his mental domain.
It should not have been like this.
Everything was wrong.
When had it begun?
Before all of this happened, when had history strayed from its course?
Countless flashing images, smiling faces that looked at him with trust and respect—President X stared dumbfoundedly at it all. He did not notice that the movie theater had long since vanished, that everything around him had broken apart and dissipated, leaving behind only endless phantoms and voices.
"Raven."
President X murmured softly, like the final groan of a dying old man from a sickbed. Yet the voice came from the lips of a young girl in the prime of her youth.
Zhang Ye calmly watched the Scarlet Witch before him, whose body had already been taken over by President X.
He drew the pistol from his coat—the same model used to shoot Nick Fury—and slowly raised it, aiming at the woman before him as he asked,
"What did you see?"
The Scarlet Witch's eyes had already fallen into a dazed state. Layers of flashing images reflected in her pupils, but they were an illusory, intangible world that only he could see.
After a moment, the Scarlet Witch's red lips moved slightly.
"I saw that I was happy."
The next instant, Zhang Ye pulled the trigger.
Before you continue